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Showing posts with label orgasms. Show all posts
Showing posts with label orgasms. Show all posts

Saturday, April 10, 2010

The Anatomy of O


My favorite pocket rocket is a royal blue one that I've abused quite a bit. Today the batteries are about mid level. Not an aggressive vibration but a steady and effective hum. I'm wearing socks but otherwise naked from the waist down with a thermal blanket wrapped around my legs.

It's chilly in the guest bedroom. And my nipples are responding appropriately. At about 75% hardness they are perhaps half an inch tall and wide. I've discovered over time the teasing hum of the rocket rubbed just over my clit and outer lips makes me wet enough so I'm ready to 'take' the purple vibrator (V), leaving little rivers leaking down my cheeks.

My chest is hot as I stroke myself. My stomach is beginning to clench...anticipation...wanting.
Slowly at first I guide V in circling my clit with the rocket. I can feel the tension building. As I clench around V easing towards the spot. Every forward movement results in a tremor. Circling around and around...teasing

Breaths are shallow now...1
Goosebumps all over
2, ohhhhhh..haaaaaaa

3 times already...as deep as...V can go...
4....my toes are tingling
5...wooooooo

It's like a pulse...with each stroke...a hot pulse...warm...and then warmer...a pause as the hand returns then warm again
6 it builds..tingles brushing my toes with warmth....tension deep inside...
The teasing makes me giggle nervously.
I'm wanting but anxious of more.
But I'm a bit...greedy...and so

7 begins in the back. From my gspot forward then up my legs and deep deep below...panting
Moaning...begging really low....8
9 tumbled forward...warm
There is still more...if I want...

Once it starts it can just keep...going
Oh....again...wooooooo
10 at last is cold and hot...breasts heavy and peaked.
Body curled and shivering.
Sleepy...now

What's your "perfect 10"?

-- Post From My iPhone

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Group Post: The Day.......I found my mOjO

I spent much of my sexually active teenage years wondering just what all the fuss was about! After speaking with quite a few of my friends it seems that I was not alone. After losing my virginity at the not so tender age of 16 (on my birthday may I add) my only regret was not making sure that my partner was maybe a little better endowed, and perhaps a bit more experienced. My first time was not with someone that I loved or even liked for that matter. But in that Hotel room with a view, and the chilled cooler of Bacardi Breezers quelling my every qualm… I gave up the goods. Yup, a little liquid courage was all it took to give up my innocence to a guy with marginal Halitosis, a good sense of humor and an eagerness that rivals only the Republicans in today’s senate!

I didn’t have sex again for almost 2 years after that! Talk about uninterested! I just didn’t get it! I mean what the hell was the point. I would get all hot and bothered and tingly; I’d be loaded, cocked and ready to go and then it was like ‘oh… is that it’! I decided I’d rather not be bothered. Even after I resumed my sexual voyage years later I found myself unable to capture those lusty moments that I saw in the movies or on TV, or even that my friends would speak of. I started thinking that it was something wrong with me. Why don’t I tremble and scream out in ecstasy or buck like a horse when I have an orgasm….. And there it was! Like a hard slap on cold skin. Because I never had… climaxed that is. Duh! I mean sure I had gotten aroused and even had what I assume were like little climaxes, but I had never had an orgasm!!!! Well, that would just not do! This would have to be rectified! You know you always just assume that you have sex you’ll have an orgasm, like the two go hand in hand! Alas, that is not the case, but I was not going to lie (no pun intended) down without a fight, I would not go quietly into the night! I was a woman with a charge!

So now I had a new mission: Mission: Orgasm. My mission (and I chose to accept it) was to explore myself and sexuality and bring myself to this illusive orgasm by any means necessary. Every sexual encounter was like hunting some rare species of crocodile in the rolling Australian Outback. It was treacherous and fun but ever so disappointing when my hunt would come to an end and alas “Crikey! No croc!” After a few months of this my endurance started to wane. It was sucking what little fun I had come to enjoy from sex right out of it. Until one night while I was sitting and having a conversation with a girlfriend, Izzy. Actually she was my girlfriend Nessa’s girlfriend, and not at all timid about sharing her opinions. She was slightly older, very open and overtly sexual, oh … and Italian. As we talked somehow I ended up opening up about my hunt for my big O.

“Well what do you like” she asked it like it should have ended with …”on your pizza”! I didn’t understand the question.

“What makes you hot, what turns you on?” I was still a little lost, and considering she was a stranger, a tad bit uncomfortable.

She pulled herself closer, with a cigarette pulling from her lips and a glass of wine being caressed between her palms. She put down the glass and gestured for my hand. I slid forward and extended my hand. She ran the tips of her fingers around the palm of my hand, trailing them slowly up my arm.

“What do you think about when your legs are wrapped around a man’s shoulders and neck and your clit is between his teeth being stroked with his tongue?” She pulled my wrist to her lips, kissing it and, letting the tip of her tongue caress my pulse points ever so slightly. I was blushing… everywhere.

“Do you think about each flick of his tongue, do you ride the waves of each pulse? Do you listen to the sound of his fluids and yours mingling and heating up between your thighs and draining down your pussy lips, towards the crack of your ass?” I was flushed, I was speechless, and even more relevant I was turned on. Her right hand was moving up my arm, slowly sliding inwards toward my cleavage, while her left hand was playing heat seeking missile, sliding its way up my inner thigh. I was frozen, and melting all at the same time. I was almost hypnotized, watching her with baited breath.

“Careful, Lexi*… how do you think she got me?” Nessa said laughingly. I could see my girlfriend (her girlfriend) curled up in her lounge chair watching us, smiling deviously.

I chuckled knowingly, “I bet!” I broke the connection and slowly and somewhat unwillingly slid back (literally) in my seat.

But she had posed some interesting questions. I had been waiting for this orgasm to happen, but I had not been living in and feeling each moment, each sensation. I hadn’t been connecting my mind with my body! Could it be that I was looking all over for the big “O” and the key to its very existence was in me all along? Was it possibly like the scene at the end of Austin Powers where he’s looking for his MOJO and realizes no one could have stolen it, because it was a part of him?

Later that night when we retired, I could hear them giggling and kissing each other through the bedroom wall. I listened as they cooed over each other. I felt almost intrusive, but I couldn’t help it. I touched myself to the sounds of them making love through the wall. I fantasized about what she had said out on the patio. I touched myself and could still feel her touch lingering on my skin. I could hear them moaning in tandem, like a chorus of lust, building and mounting. I could hear their passionate whispers; I touched myself and closed my eyes and took in every sensation. I imagined her tongue, passionately taking me in. I stroked myself gently and with intense purpose. I focused in on the changes in my bodily sensations and followed my bodies lead. I felt my nipples harden and let my fingers caress them and tease them pulling myself closer to the rhythmic pants that were coming louder now through the bedroom wall. I let my fingers wander, through the familiar yet strangely new terrain that lay between my thighs. I felt every breath cutting in my chest, each exhale rocking me closer to the precipice of my final destination. I felt my fingers beginning to work faster and more tenaciously. I felt the heat between my fingers and my lips intensifying. My mouth started to dry out, and I could barely control my breaths. When everything in my body tingled, when everything started to convulse, when my own hands could no longer keep up with my bodies rhythm I exhaled dug deep and I let myself go! I felt a sensation burst out of me that must have been a cross between a moan and a scream but as I held onto a fistful of sheets at my side, to try and anchor myself to the bed, it was hard to tell. I literally saw stars- there was only white noise! The pulses came fast and hard, like years of bottled up sexual frustration had been shaken and uncorked, unleashed wildly like a bucking Bronco. I finally could hear myself screaming, and it took me a little by surprise. I covered my mouth with one hand and continued to pant as my other hand tried to tame the beast that was slowly calming beneath the sheets. As I came back down from cloud nine, I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh my… Holy Shit!” I laughed to myself. As my laughter faded I heard my friends through the wall again, they were laughing too.

“Goodnight, Lexi*!” Nessa taunted.

“And congratulations, no”? Izzy asked rhetorically. They continued chuckling through the wall.

I bit my lip and covered my face with the pillow, semi-mortified, “Goodnight!” I yelped back.

I rolled over onto my side, settled in and continued to smile as I thought, ‘Mission: Accomplished’.

*= name changed


Thanks to Kimberly for organizing these group posts every month!

Check out the others' "The Day" with Kimberly of The Errant Wife and see who else is taking part in this month's group post: Petal, Ronjazz, Autumn, Gray, Aurore, Barefoot Dreamer, fgsakes, Topaz, Hubman, Ms. Scarlett , Mykeyman, Advizor, Duchess, They belong to us and Veronica.




Saturday, August 29, 2009

Friday Night Smackdown

Most of the men i've dated since my separation have had one core fault in common...their consistent inconsistency. Great in bed, great sweettalkers, but when it came to "Show and Prove," they weren't about shit. Last minute booty call cancellations, double standards regarding the parameters of a Fuck Buddy relationship, etc. A whole lotta shit that Pink has absolutely NO time to entertain. Well, I expected when I started kicking it with Mr. Boombastic, him being a Young guy and all, that there wouldn't be much deviation from the norm. There wasn't. He was just as full of shit as most...but he was consistent about one thing...our Friday night fuck sessions.

So this past Friday evening, he made his way over. Apologized for being scarce all week, and commenced to give me the best foot/leg massage I've had in '09! He rubbed, and I melted, and before long, his fingers were massage another toe, one of the camel variety. He rubbed around my pussy lips and clit, causing me to writhe all over the sofa. He fingerbanged me to an orgasm, then took my hand and led me to the bedroom. I was already still a little annoyed with him for the previous week's antics, but I quietly formulated a plan to get him back. If he didn't get me first.

Our romp started out with his penis banging me from behind while I was on my knees.. I came. Then, for Round Two, I was put on my belly, and again, banged from the back. I came. I was twisted onto my side...and just when I was about to cum again, he rolled me on top of him, witout pulling out, I went from being spooned, to sitting on his cock backwards cowgirl style. WHOAA NELLY!!! It took me a few seconds to orient myself to being impaled on his dick so abruptly. Sneaky bastard, that had to be against regulations...I adjusted myself and slowly started to grind my hips and lean back into his chest. I was slow fucking him and he reached around me and rubbed my tits. My nipples were rocks and my pussy was gushing wetness all over he, me and my sheets.

Some kinda way, I pogo'd my ass around on his dick, to face him. Round Four is when it got crazy. For me at least. I had found the best way to direct his dick to my g-spot and was doing that furiously, while leaning back and grabbing his ankles. I threw my pussy up at him and ground my hips. Feeling myself come closer and closer to a huge orgasm with each twist. I started cursing, and sweating, and damn-near crying. He was talking shit. He knew I was about to cum. "Heh? What's that?" He'd say. "What's that you doin, girl? Sounds like you about to cum." And I did. I came HARD. I almost fell off of him and the bed. Yep, tapped out! I think I was speaking tongues, but I do know that the lonly English I could muster after that one was, "Don't touch me, don't touch me."

Bastard. I won't need another orgasm like that one until next Friday.
What kind of kink do you look forward regularly?

Monday, March 9, 2009

Death of a Sex Toy

Believe it or not I started purchasing sex toys for the first time perhaps four years ago. I say believe it or not, because to most people who know me this is a surprising revelation. For years, I'd been having orgasms, multiple orgasms - of the g-spot/vaginal or anal variety. I'd essentially given up all hope of ever having a clitoral orgasm. How do you ask did I reach this conclusion? How was I convinced that I would be part of a special segment of that shocking 10-15% of women who never orgasm at all? Well my clitoris is not one of those big, juicy, almost penis looking specimens. She doesn't protrude proudly from the inner folds of my labia or plump and squirt at the barest firm touch. She doesn't throb and whimper in response to a smooth stroke or a wet tongue. She doesn't pulsate at the height of a good fuck, sending rolling waves of heat and ecstasy to the base of my stomach, and tingles to the tips of my toes. My clitoris is in fact as nonchalant of an organ as I am a person. She isn't easily impressed. She doesn't care how big you are, how wet you are, how bold you are. She is stoic in her resistance to enticement by other sexual acts happening to the body of which she is a part.

Over a sex life of more than a decade, perhaps you can see why I might have given up hope. A friend suggested I just didn't get "DID" right, that my partners didn't handle their business. A less experienced person might have bought that argument, but I knew, that my partners, male and female, knew how to handle their "business" quite well. After all, I had orgasms, multiple orgasms, I just didn't have clitoral orgasms. When a wiser friend, upon hearing about this dilemma, encouraged me to take a trip to a local sex shop and stock up on some high powered battery operated machinery, I decided to follow her advice.

Prior to purchasing sex toys I wasn't a really into masturbating. It isn't that I thought I was too "good" for it, nor that I was philosophically opposed. I just thought reaching orgasm could be better accomplished in other ways. It was a fruitless unrewarding task. Why waste my time? It occurred to me that my purchase had the potential to open a brand new frontier of sexual exploration and I was anxious for the journey to begin. I'm hoping the last time anyone reading this entry visited a sex shop or attended a sex toy party was fairly recent. If it's been longer than six months, then you need an update. Not only are sex shops entertaining, but they also present unique educational opportunities. There is no better way to increase your awareness of the variety of fetishes and sexual interests than by taking a trip to a well stocked sex shop. I purchased my lime green butterfly at Pleasure Emporium on South Beach, and in the last four years, she has been very very good to me and my clit - very very good. How did it begin? Well my first clitoral orgasm was a toe curling experience.

After I peeled off all the plastic packaging and examined my prize, I discovered there was a bit of a learning curve involved with using this toy. I had a variety of options for which part of the butterfly I would use to stimulate myself. I could choose the the wings, the face, the back of the head or the antennae. I used the tip of my nose to test the strength of vibration from each angle (a trick the sex shop staff taught me) and decided to go with the face. I put a copy of the girl on girl porno I had picked up on my last trip to New York, drowned out the tragically contrived conversation with soft music, took a sip of from the glass of Chateau Du Grand Cavvete on my bedside table and got naked.

The cool feel of the sheets against my bare back and thighs combined with the sight of well endowed women fondling each other on the screen in front of me, was enough to make the skin of the inner folds of my labia moist. I pressed the tip of my finger at the entrance of my pussy and used the thumb of my alternate hand to turn on the vibrator. As much as I wanted to jump right in, anxious to determine if this would "work" I knew that my ability to relax and let things slowly build was a crucial component of success. I took the butterfly and slowly ran her up and down the outside of my pussy and used my other hand to open my lips so that I could tease the inner folds. My body responded with shivers and I could feel moisture begin to dribble down my inner thighs. I positioned the face of the butterfly near the hood of my clitoris and applied light pressure, moving it in a circular motion . I began to feel a rising tide of sensation. I felt flush, my face, shoulders and chest were hot and my body tensed with wanting. I applied more pressure, and as the butterfly circled the waves of sensation ebbed and flowed. My clit was plumped and throbbing. I began to feel the tell-tale tingle brushing the tips of my toes and fingers. I removed one finger from the grip of the butterfly and slowly inserted it into the entrance of my pussy, moving back and forth as the butterfly circled. I could feel the walls of my pussy clenching around my finger and trembling, as moisture trickle down my hand. I knew that I was very very close to what I had been seeking, and I had to force myself to relax by taking deep breaths and trying to pace my progress. I slowly turned over, placed a pillow under my waist and began to move my clit up and down against the butterfly as my finger moved in and out the first two inches of my pussy. My stomach was taut with anticipation, there were beads of sweat on my brow. When the first wave of sensation hit me I cried out. The intensity of the cum was so shocking, that my body collapsed against my hand, pressing my clit against the butterfly and bringing on another wave of orgasm more powerful than the last. Rather than feeling satiated I was ravenous and for the next hour, I came five more times, each a higher peak than the last, each leaving my wanting more. My green butterfly was very very good to me and my clit. Looking back I think it was at that moment I became a greedy bitch in bed.

As I laid the butterfly to rest this past week, after two new sets of batteries failed to elicit a response, I kissed her fondly, and wrapped her in a paper bag. As I dropped the bag in the trash can, I picked up the phone and called Pink. "Girl, when we can take a trip to Fetish Factory?"

What happens when you eat but are never full? Is it possible to always be hungry?


Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Man vs. Beast

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